


At the close

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [71]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Edging, Established Relationship, F/M, Foreplay, Light Bondage, Sexual Teasing, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: On the morning of Valentine's day, Brienne leaves home early, leaving Jaime with just a clue to find his gift.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [71]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	At the close

Jaime wakes up not to the warmth of her body but an empty bed this morning. His watch says 7 a.m, too early for the wench to be up, so what in the world could she have abandoned snuggling next to him for?

Stretching away his yawns and laziness, he gets up, pulls on a robe and drags himself out of bed. He checks the bathroom, the kitchen, the rest of the apartment, and when her phone slips into voicemail, he sits back to assess his situation. With passing time his trepidation grows. Could their last night’s argument have triggered this?

But no, his wife isn’t the sort to run away from a battlefield. There has to be something—

That’s when his eyes fall on a note stuck to the fridge. That wasn’t there yesterday. And it isn’t any instruction on which milk to consume or how to operate the microwave.

_You’ll find me at the close._

That’s all it says—an annoyingly cryptic—whatever-it-is, but why would she—

_Of course..._

Today being the 14th of Feb, this note makes absolute sense. It holds the key to his gift, to finding her. While relieved at the discovery that she hasn’t left him, this is something, he’s sure, will be gnawing at him, seeking all his attention, preventing him from getting anything at all done today.

_It’ll come to me soon._

On that positive note, he sets about to begin his day. But all through shower, dressing up and breakfast, it never leaves his mind, haunting him, burning up his brain cells.

_If I shove it aside for a while, I’ll get to it eventually._

+++++

All along his hour-long drive to work, this is all he can think of. Even when he settles down at work to begin his day’s grind, time and again, it keeps visiting his crowded head, demanding him to pay immediate attention and decode it at the earliest.

“What the hell can it possibly mean?” he asks his buddies at lunch, his overworked brain almost giving up.

But Tyrion and Bronn merely exchange a smile, and far from helping him out, add to his woes with an annoying, “The fun lies in figuring it out yourself.”

+++++

When tea time arrives, he decides to try Sansa and Margaery.

“Do you read, Jaime?” Margaery asks, wearing an enigmatic look that matches the one on Sansa’s face. 

He shakes his head, clueless of the connection. Is this part of the plan? Are these women trying to draw him away from his destination? If so, they’d rather reserve their energies for something better. Even with help, this riddle seems difficult to crack. Without would be impossible, and distractions—they’re no more than a waste of time. 

“Sorry, then,” Sansa irritates him further. “The hint lies in a book, but since you haven’t read it—”

“I’ll figure it out without your help,” he hisses, then huffs away half-hoping they’d pity him and divulge the secret.

But all he gets is a giggle and an equally useless, “Brienne would love that.”

+++++

He tries her phone again around 5 in the evening, hoping she’d let him in on this, but when she doesn’t answer, he shoves it back into his pocket and gets back to his laptop. Not that his work can’t wait till tomorrow, but since she’s chosen to torture him like this, why bother getting back home on time? Why take the trouble to take her out for dinner?

Minutes tick by, but she doesn’t return his call, doesn’t answer his messages.

At about 7 p.m, when he’s too tired to go on, he decides to call it a day.

By the time he gets home, his mind is depleted of the ability to analyze this further. Switching on the lights in the living room, he begins texting his wife, telling her he’s given up, pleading with her to stop this torture and show up, but when he notices the bedroom lamp glowing, he puts down the phone.

Absolutely certain he’d switched it off that morning before leaving his bed, he sneaks in, expectation and so much more rising in him.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Jaime.”

He means to say it back, but all he can do is gape at his _gift._ Her hands bound to the bedpost, red satin bows decorating her wrists—his wife lies there. The attractive ribbon is all she’s wearing.

“Stop drooling and hurry up,” she says, voice husky, eyes roving all over his body, pupils darkening when she notices his bulge. “And get those clothes off before you get here.”

“ _You’ll find me at the close,_ ” he recalls, his already poor deduction skills dulled even further at the sight of the naked woman waiting for him. “At the _close_?” 

“At the close of today,” she explains with an impatient click of her tongue. “I’ve been here for a while. If only you’d taken my recommendation and read Harry Potter, you’d have cracked it sooner.” The fire in her eyes burns brighter. “Come now,” she seductively calls out. “Come here and rid me of this torture.”

He approaches her, stripping as he goes, leaving items of clothing along his short walk to the bed like some sort of erotic breadcrumbs. He wants to climb into that bed and lie there wrapped in her warmth, wants that expert hand of hers absently playing with his cock under the sheets before she takes him to a fiery pace, the soft purring of her breathing all over him as she caresses his body with hers. His cock stirs in its desperation to be sheathed inside her, but along with it stirs something else inside him as he runs through the day he’s spent. 

“Unwrap me,” she whispers, when he crouches between her legs. “Untie me, Jaime, and fuck me—”

“Not so fast,” he growls, licking his lips at the sight of her. Sprawled in front of him, nipples pink pearls awaiting his mouth, legs open, beads of the beginnings of her arousal glistening enticingly—she’s a feast he can’t resist, and it takes him immense restraint to keep from throwing himself at her and devouring her, but he’d come to that eventually. After what she’s done to him all day, she’s going to have to suffer a little.

“Jaime—” She wriggles, squeezes her thighs together to ease herself for the moment. “Be quick about it—”

“Shh.” He crawls closer, lets his fingertips take a leisurely feathery walk around her ankle. “Lie back and—” he glances up, smiles wickedly “—with your hands bound, all you can do is wait, right?” His fingers take baby steps further up her leg, stay at her thigh to enjoy the slight tremble that kisses them. So needy she is, that her toes curl in anticipation. He can sense the fluttering of her heart from right here.

“Jaime,” she goes again, and he lets go of her legs to caress the crook of her arm. With a shiver, she closes her eyes, the spark of his touch—he can feel it coursing through her. His body hovering over hers, he takes to trailing its path along the length of that shapely arm and across that shapely collarbone to between her breasts, circling one pert nipple at a time, a tiny tweak, then a desperate press before he releases them to proceed to her navel. 

“Kiss me,” she demands, when he meets her eyes.

“Your wish is my command,” he graciously agrees, capturing her lips. Burning for him, she rises up to meet him. He suckles and devours her, tongue-fucks her mouth, and she wriggles helplessly, moaning into his kisses, her gasps getting more frantic as she struggles against her restraints.

“Touch me there,” she breathes, when his hand descends between her legs, his palm brushing her mound. “ _Properly._ ”

This, too, he feels generous enough to grant her. Thumb rubbing around her desperate clit, two fingers swirling near her entrance, he takes his time, waits for her to ignite. He can feel her body tense, her breath turn to ragged sounds of lust. He dips in, draws out her a fingertip of her wetness, then raising his head to look her in the eye, he licks his finger.

“Jaime—” 

Her strangled tone begs for respite, for him. His cock begs for attention, yearns for her, but he doesn’t touch himself, doesn’t dare glance down at how hot he’s for her. Paralyzed by desire, it would only drive him to sink right into that inviting velvety warmth, but not so fast. He wouldn’t let her have him that easily. He fingers her again, around and around rubbing her, massaging her, sparking in her sensations that will tear her apart in no time. He ups the pressure, edging her until she arches up into him, and when her throaty curses travel deep down and through her cunt to crush his fingers—that’s when he draws away.

“You can’t—”

“I can, darling.” He pins her down, starts to massage her body with his, sliding up and down. He kneads her breasts, lets his cock brush her the length of her folds, giving her aroma of the lavish spread that awaits her whilst denying her the pleasure of the meal itself.

“Oh, fuck you,” she swears in frustration, jerking her hips up to trap his swinging cock between her thighs.

“You will,” he teases, pulling away again to leave her high and dry. “But not just yet. You’re going to pay for that puzzle of yours.”

She pleads, protests like an angry goose when he refuses to fall for that, and when none of it works, she lies back in resignation, ready to face her punishment. He bends, takes an erect nipple in his mouth, gently biting down as his tongue dances in circles over it. Shifting to the other, he unleashes the same treatment to it. She yelps like a wild cat, heat and desire dripping from her voice, from every pore on her skin. 

Not too far from crumbling, the wall of his patience coming down brick by fucking brick, he grinds his pulsating erection against her hips, drags his throbbing head to her folds in an excruciating to and fro rhythm. “ _Gods!_ ” she cries, thrashing her thighs against his, rubbing her sensitive nub vigorously against the tip of his cock. If she had her hands at her disposal, her fingers, by now, would’ve pushed their way into her hair, gripping him tight. If she’d had her way, she’d have pulled him up to her mouth into a sloppy, feverish kiss. 

Fuck, how badly he wants that!

Gulping down his need for now, he slithers down her body, kissing to mark his territory, stopping tantalizingly to breathe in her arousal. His mouth in line with her sodden cunt, he runs his hands up the inside of her thighs. When she kicks away in desperation, he clamps down his arms to pin her legs in place and buries his face in her. His tongue between her folds, he pushes in and out, lapping up her juices. A squeal of delight urges him on, and he explores her the way she likes it, inflicting on her the pain she enjoys. 

Sometimes slow, sometimes faster, he goes about it just the way she wants it. When he hits the right button, she hums in satisfaction, her limbs thrumming with her arousal, the onset of the release she so badly awaits. Her legs tremble, just the way he wants them to, her thighs seal his head in place. If only her hands were free—

His cock craves for the feel of those long fingers around it, but he pushes aside his agony, continues to devour her. His lips close around her swollen clit, and when he sucks away, with it, throbs his cock.

He looks up to those eyes tinged with a deep unbearable need. Face flushed, her chest heaving, she pumps up his own arousal by more than a notch. “I need you,” she pants, eyeing his cock like she’d waste no time making a meal of him. She drags her heel up and down his back. “Jaime—”

But instead of satisfying her, he pulls away, gets to his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “At the close,” he says, sliding up her body to kiss her. “That’s when you can have me—” 

“I need to come—” 

“I’ll let you come at the close, Brienne.” He takes on the fire in her breath with another long, deep kiss, then breaks away again. “But I’m afraid we’ve only just passed the beginning now.”

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to pick up the "I open at the close" snitch clue from Harry Potter and put it to my use ;)  
> It isn't V-Day yet, but I couldn't get this out of my mind. Also, this is somewhat outside my comfort zone, soo...  
> Anyhoo, thank you for reading!


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